


The Blood of the Monster

by Waters



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Monster!Kyoya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 05:25:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5117072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waters/pseuds/Waters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyoya may be a monster now, but he's fine. Great. Better than great. Okay, so maybe he wants to eat his friends and his craving for human flesh is unmanageable, but he'll get through this right? He can still resist eating the love of his life, and finish his last year of Harvard and be his father's heir right? <i> RIGHT?! </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I'd post this for Halloween! If you want to talk to be more about monster Kyoya you can here or on my [tumblr](http://www.stories-n-things.tumblr.com/ask)
> 
> I TOTALLY FORGOT! But this fic is actually dedicated to http://kuvira-baefong.tumblr.com/ who really wanted some angst even though this is probably nothing like what she planned!

Kyoya's plan was fool proof. Sure, a lot of people said that about their plans, but Kyoya's actually was. After being turned into a some kind of monster had been terrible, but Kyoya had it under control now.

He'd been living in Tamaki's brick townhouse, (first in the basement, then the rest of the house once he'd proven he could resist snapping and breaking out to eat their next door neighbour's poodle) and he was recovering at a steady pace. Except, his summer vacation was ending and soon his fourth year at Harvard would be starting and Kyoya wasn't going let being a man eating beast interfere with his plans of success. Arguably, he'd already been a monster before so it stood to reason if he was just careful enough he'd be able to go back to Harvard, complete his last year and eventually be his father's heir.

Of course, Tamaki didn't believe him. Tamaki was convinced Kyoya couldn't be left alone and he had been obsessively researching how to cure wendigos, which was what Tamaki thought Kyoya might be. But that's why Kyoya's plan was so perfect. All he needed to do was prove to Tamaki he could control himself, and what better way to do that than by adopting an adorable little kitten, raising it, and not eating it.

"No." Tamaki looked from the kitten to Kyoya. Kyoya was curled up on the living room couch, leaning back like a reasonable person with the kitten nestled in his arms. Tamaki scrubbed a hand down his face as he paced the living room. "No Kyoya, this is going to end badly."

"Look, I really appreciate your help, but you're not _actually_ the boss of me. I don't need to prove myself to you, I could go to Harvard by myself, it's only as a courtesy—"

"Kyoya, be reasonable about this. You can't go back to America you—"

"What?" Kyoya stood up, still clutching the kitten. He wanted to wipe his face where saliva was steadily leaking out of his mouth, but he couldn't do that discretely, not with the kitten in his arms. "What am I supposed to do? Hide for the rest of my life? Become a recluse or a manga artist or something _stupid_ —"

"Kyoya," Tamaki's voice was sympathetic, but not pitying thankfully. "Kyoya this is just until I figure out how to cure you."

"People think I'm missing Tamaki!"

Tamaki ran a hand through his hair. Kyoya wanted to chew on his lip but he couldn’t do that anymore, not with his razor sharp teeth. He hated this.

"Didn't you say if I just didn't eat human flesh I'd turn back to normal?" Kyoya looked down at the kitten. She was so small, so fluffy and Kyoya honestly had no desire to eat her. He sighed.

"Look, I read some sources that said not eating human flesh would stop the turning but I don't know how to reverse it—"

"But I never ate human flesh!"

"I know—"

"This is ridiculous!"

"I _know."_ Tamaki clasped his hands together and walked over to Kyoya. He pulled him into a hug and Kyoya tried not to stiffen.  His heartbeat was too fast in his chest. Tamaki was always so warm and he smelt so good and a part of Kyoya wanted to rub his cheek in the crook of Tamaki's neck like Kyoya was kind of freaking cat. Another part of him wanted to tear Tamaki's throat out with his teeth, but thankfully, that part was a lot smaller.

The kitten mewed and all Kyoya could do was bury his face in Tamaki's shoulder as Tamaki wrapped his arms around him. It was not a nice hug. Kyoya wasn't a big hugger to start and with Tamaki's hands running through Kyoya's hair, fingernails dragging pleasantly along Kyoya's scalp, it was too much. Sure, it felt nice, but he wasn't some kind of animal.

"You should tell the others I had a nervous breakdown," Kyoya said.

"What?!"

Kyoya turned, his cheek resting on Tamaki's sweater. Tamaki's Adam's apple bobbed as Tamaki swallowed.

"Our friends and my father. Tell them I had a nervous breakdown. They think I'm missing and it's only a matter of time before the cops get involved. If you tell them I snapped they'll leave me alone until I can get better." He didn't like this idea, but they needed to say something. Kyoya was a planner, and he was going to plan.

"Okay," Tamaki sighed. Kyoya could feel Tamaki's breath, hot against his own neck. When Tamaki pulled away and smiled, Kyoya didn't smile back. He just sat on the couch and kept petting his new kitten. "You can't keep that."

"I have self control Tamaki."

Tamaki only eyed him and walked out. But that didn't matter. Tamaki would see reason, it was only a matter of time.

Kyoya picked at his jeans. They hadn't been ripped when Tamaki bought them, but now they looked like they'd been styled that way. He knew he had to stop this, this picking, but if he couldn't dig his claws into meat, he had to do something with them.

The kitten mewed again and Kyoya lied on the couch, the kitten on his chest.

"I'll protect you. Don't worry." The kitten seemed oblivious to the danger. Too soft, too innocent to even _think_ that Kyoya was capable of harming her.

Kyoya fell asleep like that, with the warm bundle on his chest.

 

Tamaki was at the door talking to someone. Kyoya adjusted the medical mask on his face, making sure it hid his mouth. Usually it didn't look too bad if he kept his mouth shut, but the canine teeth poked out too much and someone who knew him would see the difference instantly. He was also wearing gloves, mittens, and he hoped no one asked about that.

"It's just, doesn't he need the support of his family and friends? If he's freaking out?" Haruhi asked. She was trying to step into the doorway, but Tamaki leaned his weight to the other side, blocking her. Kyoya crept down the stairs carefully until she spotted him and Tamaki turned.

Tamaki's face almost broke Kyoya, but Kyoya only sighed. Tamaki just had to trust him. Of course Tamaki was worried, but Kyoya wasn't going to _eat_ Haruhi.

What was more worrying than his friend thinking he was a cannibal was the constant babying that came with it. At first it hadn't bothered him so much, but the feeling only grew. But Kyoya wasn't a child, or some pet that needed protecting. Kyoya was capable. Kyoya should be free and able to do whatever he wanted.

"Hey," Kyoya waved. Haruhi waved back, eyes wide. She was staring at this jeans and the sweater he was wearing. Tamaki's fashionable, giant sweater. He'd almost forgotten he'd been wearing it and really he should stop doing this, stop wearing Tamaki's clothes and curling up in Tamaki's bed when Tamaki was away.

"Are you okay?" This time Haruhi did step into the house.

"Not really." Kyoya tried to smile before remembering she couldn't see his mouth. For some reason that bothered him more than it should. But he shrugged it off and went into the kitchen. The three of them had lunch and the little kitten whined for Kyoya until he went to go get her. He should really name her by now. It wasn't like he was going to eat her, she wasn't going to die, he should give her a name.

But he didn't.

Even though things were the most normal they'd been in weeks, Kyoya couldn't rid himself of the dread curling in his stomach. Things were going to be okay though. Kyoya had to believe that. What was he going to do if he didn't?

 

Tamaki had had a long day at school. He'd flopped down on his bed and Kyoya stood there, watching him, waiting for some signal that it was fine to go over to him. But Tamaki was mad. His shoulders were stiff and he'd been trying not to glare at Kyoya for several minutes now.

"I'm only wearing your sweaters because it's cold." Kyoya wanted to pick at the sweater he was wearing right now, but it was Tamaki's favourite and stank like his sweat and if Kyoya ruined it Tamaki would never wear it again.

What the fuck was wrong with Kyoya that _that_ was what concerned him?

Tamaki turned onto his stomach and screamed into his pillow and Kyoya wanted to reach out to him, to hold him or stroke his hair to do whatever weird comforting thing people did. But he didn't.

"That's what you're— _that's_ what you think this is about?" Tamaki sat up. "You almost ate my neighbour—"

"But I didn't!"

"You literally almost bit her and you would have too if the dog hadn’t startled you and I keep telling you Kyoya you're not alright—you're not alright!"

Kyoya was wrong, Tamaki wasn't mad. Tears were spilling from Tamaki's eyes and his shoulder's shook and really Kyoya should do something, do anything. He remembered earlier in the day when Mrs. Takahashi had asked him for help reaching the bird's nest in one of her windows and Kyoya had thought this was finally his chance to prove he could be normal. But he had been so hungry. He'd had a whole pig for breakfast, but somehow it wasn't enough and half way through moving the bird's nest's he'd licked his lips and realized he could easily take a bite out of this woman.

It had been tempting and he'd been so hungry and somehow he couldn't even remember any reason not to. But it wasn't like the dog had stopped him, the dog's barking had just startled him back to his senses and Kyoya was fine, really he was fine. It was just sometimes it was hard to remember things, but as long as Kyoya remembered who he was, that was all there was to it.

Tamaki kept sobbing and Kyoya didn't want to watch this. Very carefully, he went to sit next to Tamaki on the bed. He held him, because that's what you were supposed to do and Tamaki cried in his arms and Kyoya breathed in the scent of his shampoo and he didn't look at Tamaki's throat and he didn't think about how he wanted his teeth on it, for two, very different reasons.

It wasn't like Kyoya didn't know what was going on. It wasn't like this was the first time Kyoya had had to resist kissing Tamaki or staring too long, but it was so much harder now and Kyoya just needed to feel okay, to feel safe and Tamaki was the only thing he knew that was safe.

If he made some kind of move—if he let on that he liked Tamaki and then lost him—Kyoay wouldn't be able to handle that.

"Did you just lick me?" Tamaki asked. Kyoya sprang up and shook his head, denying everything and sprinting out of the room. He found the kitten, crying for him in the living room. He fed her and thought about names, but he didn't give her any. He hated himself for it. For not naming the cat and for upsetting Tamaki.

He was Kyoya fucking Ootori he was supposed to be the king of self-control. He was supposed to be able to handle this.

But he was so hungry.

Kyoya looked down at the kitten and swallowed.

 

Tamaki found bones in the trashcan. Little bones too small for a chicken. He looked immediately for the kitten. Tamaki had taken to calling her _Espoir_ when Kyoya wasn't around. He'd known it was a bad idea from the start, but Kyoya had been so hopeful and maybe Tamaki had thought there was a chance. He hadn't been very successful with his research and the only thing that seemed to really be conclusive was something to do with exorcism, but where was Tamaki going to find a trustworthy exorcist?

Tamaki searched the whole house, top to bottom, but he couldn't find the kitten.

He found Kyoya, curled up in the laundry room, gently sobbing, wrapped up in Tamaki's sweater, his jeans and skin ripped to shreds.

"You didn't." Tamaki couldn't breathe. This couldn't be happening. The kitten must just have gotten lost and Kyoya had eaten something else and was crying for some other reason. Tamaki crouched down next to Kyoya, but Kyoya couldn't look at him. Tears were already welling in Tamaki's eyes and he didn't know how to deal with this, he didn't know how to deal with this at all. He wanted to scream, to beat his fists against the ground because there was nothing he could do. He just wanted his friend to be alright.

Tamaki could see the tears dripping from Kyoya's face. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Kyoya cry.

"Where's the kitten Kyoya?" Tamaki tried to be gentle, his voice was barely above a whisper, but it still came out like an accusation. "Where's the kitten?" This couldn't be happening.

"Gone." Kyoya's voice broke and with it broke Tamaki's heart. Tamaki bit into his fist. Tamaki remembered Kyoya petting her, falling asleep with _Espoir_ on his chest. The little cat had adored him. Loved him. And Tamaki had wanted everything to be okay so bad, he'd wanted it to work out so bad.

Kyoya had loved the cat. He doted on her and smiled at her when he thought Tamaki wasn't looking. He loved her so much and Tamaki thought that would be enough.

But it wasn't.

She was gone.

Dead.

Tamaki could have saved her.

"Where is she?"

But Kyoya didn't answer.

"You...?" Tamaki couldn't bring himself to ask. He noticed Kyoya was clutching something in his hand, something white as bone and solid. The skull? Tamaki tried to get his breathing under control as he pried it from Kyoya's fingers, from Kyoya's claws covered in blood, much of it probably his own.

It was indeed a skull, but it wasn't shaped right to be a kitten.

"What...?"

Kyoya merely shook his head and wrapped his arms around himself.

"This is a...a rat's skull?"

"I ate a rat." Kyoya's voice was too small, too defeated. Tamaki didn't know what to do.

"Where's the kitten Kyoya?"

"Gone."

"Where's the kitten!"

"God—you think I did it, you think I _ate_ her." Kyoya started to sob harder now, convulsing on the floor and Tamaki froze. He wiped the tears off his face and swallowed. He was so lost, so utterly out of his depth.

He lay down next to Kyoya.

"Look at me Kyoya, just, just look at me."

Kyoya turned his face and Tamaki almost wish he hadn't. His eyes were red, swollen and puffy, and lips were raw and bloody like he'd been chewing at him. Snot dripped down his nose and was smeared to his face along with tears and blood.

"Where's the kitten?" Tamaki whispered and drew Kyoya into his arms. Kyoya stiffened and didn't move.

"I had to let her go. I couldn't—" Kyoya's voice broke and Tamaki could here him swallow, could hear Kyoya's ragged breath and smell its rancid odour. "I couldn't do it. I had to let her go." Then Kyoya let out a whine, too shrill to be human and too sorrowful to animal. "I'm going to die a monster."

"No," Tamaki said, "You'll be fine." But Tamaki didn't believe that.

"You're lying," Kyoya sniffled. Tamaki only nodded, not having the heart to lie again. "Don't lie to me. _Please_ don't _lie_ —" Kyoya bit into his lip and Tamaki watched the blood drip down his chin.

"I'm going to do the best I can to protect you all right? I'm going to try to help."

" _Don't lie to me. Please. Don't lie. Don't.._."

And Tamaki didn't say anything else.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything gets worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So! Another chapter, more sadness! Hopefully some of you still find this interesting, if so say something. Even if all you comment is one letter, I want to hear from YOU! If you don't want to comment here you can reach my on my tumblr [HERE](http://www.stories-n-things.tumblr/ask) 

 

"Knitting," Kyoya repeated. He sniffled, his nose still clogged, his eyes still leaking. When was the last time Kyoya had cried? He must have been some kid back then. But now, one crying jag and suddenly he couldn't go ten minutes with the urge to start sobbing again.

Kyoya swallowed the lump in his throat. He hadn't changed from Tamaki's sweater in a week, he hadn't even left the laundry room until today and the sweater was starting to smell more like him and less like Tamaki and Kyoya wanted to scream. His arms and legs were bandaged from where he'd scratched at them, but they hadn't healed, maybe his wounds never would.

"You keep destroying stuff so I think that teaching you how to knit would be helpful. It would give you something to do besides obsessing." Tamaki put the basket of knitting supplies beside Kyoya and Kyoya only stared. _Knitting?_!

The colours of yarn were muted at least. Ochre and blood red and rust and bruise-yellow. Fall colours. Kyoya snorted.

"You didn't eat the kitten Kyoya. You know. It means you do have self-control, but it also means you have—I don't know—instincts you have to channel into something else." Tamaki smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. Two weeks ago, Kyoya would have said of course, he would have knitted Tamaki some stupid sweater and proved to him he was fine. Now he didn't know what he was going to do.

"Knitting isn't going to work long term."

"No. No it won't." Tamaki sat down beside Kyoya on the couch. "But I'm looking for something that I think might work and you only need last a little while, okay?"

"What's your plan?"

"Exorcism."

Kyoya laughed. He'd already had a terrible laugh but now, throat raw from crying, his occasional snort replaced with a demonic screech, well he was shocked that Tamaki didn't run screaming. But Tamaki only looked at him like he always did. Kyoya didn't deserve that.

Tamaki had been baking too, filling the house with the scent of vanilla and cinnamon to cover the stench of bloody meat and death.

"Do you remember how you got turned into a...you know?"

"I've been trying to forget that a _ctually_."

"Kyoya, when I found you, you were a mess. You couldn't even speak! I think we're coming a long way, you _are_ making progress. You're getting used to being a...whatever you are...and you're making progress, but that doesn't mean we can ignore what happened. We need a better plan and I have some sources—"

"I'm not possessed by some demon." Kyoya shot Tamaki a withering look.

"Actually I think you might be, sort of.  Some say to become a wendigo you have to eat human flesh, which you haven't, others say just crossing one will turn you. But OTHERS say that what turns you is being possessed by an evil spirit so I think we'll try that option."

Tamaki smiled.

"And most sources probably say you have to be in Canada for a wendigo to even appear, not in the middle of _Japan._ You can't fix this Tamaki. You don't even know what I am."

Tamaki sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He was exhausted, it was obvious. Kyoya didn't want to rally him, except for the small part of him. The part of him that told Kyoya it was safer for Tamaki if he just left, safer if he just forgot Kyoya even existed.

The timer went off Tamaki left to go to the kitchen to get his cupcakes.

Kyoya picked up the knitting needles. It probably would do him some good to focus on something that wasn't wanting to eat people or how bad he felt.

 

Tamaki sighed. This was the sixth exorcist he'd seen and every one had been hard to find, really creepy, and super shady. None had known anything about wendigos either. And Tamaki kept turning the stories over in his mind. What if Kyoya wasn't a wendigo? That had been the thing that seemed to fit, but really, what did Tamaki know about wendigos anyway?

And Haruhi kept texting him. Tamaki had told everyone that Kyoya had had a nervous breakdown, but that didn't seem to satisfy Haruhi. She kept probing for answer and Tamaki didn't want to say anything. He didn't want to share this with her, to admit what had happened out loud.

But Haruhi kept texting.

_Shouldn't Kyoya see his family? Aren't they doctors, couldn't they get Kyoya a therapist or something?_

Tamaki sighed and typed something about Kyoya not wanting to see people, but Haruhi wasn't buying it.

_He looks thrilled whenever I come over. Well, thrilled for Kyoya. Don't lie to me Tamaki_

Tamaki bit his lip as he looked around the street. It was hot out and muggy and Tamaki couldn't help but think of lying on the cold floor with Kyoya bawling, _please don't lie to me_.

Tamaki didn't know what he was going to do. No one would believe the truth and he was running out of options. And he couldn't just _abandon_ Kyoya, not after what happened. Tamaki was the one who'd suggested they go camping in the woods and it was his fault Kyoya had gotten lost and it was his fault that Kyoya had been found by that creature.

It had taken days to find Kyoya again, but once Tamaki had he had promised to protect Kyoya. He wasn't going to let his best friend turn into a monster.

 _Look_ Tamaki typed _Kyoya keeps insisting that he's fine, that he's okay, but he's not. He's not okay Haruhi, even you can tell that, I'm not trying to kidnap him or something I just want to help._

Haruhi didn't type anything back and Tamaki looked up the name of the seventh exorcist.

 

"I love it." Tamaki picked up the scarf and wrapped in around his throat. Kyoya screwed up his face. The scarf was horribly made, loose, and uneven and possibly the ugliest thing Kyoya had ever seen. It looked like a gaping wound and seeing it wrapped around Tamaki's throat made Kyoya sick. But Tamaki loved it. His smile was real, and that smile did things to Kyoya. It relaxed his shoulders and tugged at the corners of his lips. Seeing Tamaki smile always made Kyoya want to smile. He resisted it usually. Suppressed the longing deep down where it couldn't hurt anyone.

 "Let's go to the park," Tamaki said.

Kyoya's eyes widened. He cleared his throat, grasping at words. He should be thrilled right? Excited to get out of the house?

"C'mon." Tamaki took his hand and pulled him to his feet. "You'll have to shower and stuff first though."

Dimly Kyoya let Tamaki led upstairs into the washroom. There were too many mirrors there and the floor tile was too cold as Tamaki closed the door, leaving Kyoya alone.

"Clean up and then we'll go to the park," Tamaki said.

He stood for a while unmoving. He was used to these clothes. They were like blankets wrapped around him, keeping him warm. But then he looked in the mirror, he looked at his eyes and his red nose, as his pathetic face, ugly from crying. He was pitiful. And he stayed like this he would be more pitiful, but no less vicious.

He stripped off Tamaki's sweater and the ruined jeans and ran himself a scalding hot shower. He scrubbed until he was red, but he didn't bleed. The water was burning, but Kyoya needed it. He was so cold, so impossibly cold that even Tamaki and his sweater wouldn't heat him up. He hadn’t eaten in days either and his stomach was tearing at itself, but at least the pain let him be in control.

When Kyoya finished cleaning, instead of drying off and rewrapping his bandages he traced the scars on his legs and arms and sat in the shower, trying not to shiver. Tamaki had been right about one thing. Kyoya had gotten a lot better at being sort of normal. At first, when he was still in the basement, he'd kept clawing at the door tearing at the rugs. Now he could hold a normal conversation. He could attempt to knit.

But it wouldn't be enough. There were times when he felt that he fine, and then he had these urges, to tear, to devour, and he was almost powerless to stop them.

Kyoya didn't whimper, animals whimpered and children whimpered and Kyoya was neither. He turned down the temperature on the water until it was almost bearable and he lay down on the floor of the shower and fell asleep for the first time in a long time.

When Tamaki woke him up with a fresh change of clothes Kyoya wished he had something more meaningful to say. Tamaki was doing so much for him and what was Kyoya doing?

Kyoya's friendship with Tamaki had always been selfish.

"I bought you a sweater, but you can use mine if you want." Tamaki shrugged and Kyoya put on the clothes like didn't care whether or not Tamaki watched him change. Of course Tamaki kept his back to Kyoya and Kyoya noticed Tamaki was fiddling with a leather strap, possibly a _leash_ , that he hastily shoved into his pocket.

Kyoya ended up throwing Tamaki's jacket on over the sweater. He kept getting odd looks from people on street as the walked to the park, but Tamaki insisted it probably wasn't as bad as he thought.

"You're wearing a medical mask, they probably just think you're sick."

And Kyoya was sick. In a different way. They were also getting a lot of looks because Tamaki was holding Kyoya's hand. In fact, he was refusing to let go and of course, it wasn't for the reason that Kyoya have wanted, but holding hands was nice. Which still made him want to cry, but Kyoya was more in control of it now. It made his hand feel warm and it was almost normal.

But it wasn't normal. It would never be normal. His skin still itched and he was freezing cold, but that's what made it perfect. It had been a while since he'd been outside anyway and he breathed in the scent of dying grass and sweat and ice cream. He looked at the thick-leafed trees and swatted the stable flies that buzzed and swarmed around him. He listened to the screaming of the cicadas and tracked the caterpillars as they climbed over rough bark.

He'd missed this. He hadn't realized it. He hadn't know how much he'd needed the outside.

"It's a nice day today," Tamaki said. He smiled and leaned into Kyoya and Kyoya let himself smile back, knowing Tamaki would never see it behind his mask. For a moment Kyoya let himself pretend he wasn't a monster. That taking lone walks by the park was something they did often, like a new couple, still infatuated with each other, still incapable of imagining a life apart.

Kyoya watched the children and imagined Tamaki talking about how much he loved children, how nice it would be for them to have their own. It was childish to play-act this way and Kyoya knew it, but he let himself pretend it was normal, just this once.

But everything had to end. They had to go back to Tamaki's house, where Tamaki lived alone. They had to go back to their lives, to their routine, where Tamaki slept so he was well rested for school the next day and Kyoya lay awake in the guest bed.

Kyoya heard mewling from outside, but he closed his eyes right and ignored it. The kitten was crying. It longed for Kyoya, not understanding why it had been cast aside, not understanding what Kyoya was. Kyoya listened to it and didn't cry. Instead, he tossed and turned and pretended to sleep.

 

Tamaki was getting desperate. He'd finally found someone who seemed like they might help, but they didn't live in Japan.

"Look, we can do this, and your friend will get better, maybe, but it won't be what you think," the man on the phone said. Tamaki hmmed in response. "He could be a wendigo. Or he could be possessed by a different kind of spirit most likely. In the second case the spirit first possesses but then it corrupts, if your friend is already corrupted by it, if he's already eaten human flesh, it's too late."

"He hasn't eaten anyone though! I've been with him the whole time and he's...he's all right I guess."

"Yes, but how long as he been like this? Even if we exercise him, his spirit might still be somewhat corrupt, he'll have more control, but he might never fully recover."

" _Please_?"

"I can try, but don't hold your breath. We'll be there in a week. Just make sure he doesn't eat anyone until then."

Tamaki agreed and thanked the man on the phone profusely. Part of him wanted to offer to fly them out here, but if they were scammer or something he didn't want to be taken advantage of. Still, they seemed like they knew what they were talking about.

When he got home, he spotted Kyoya putting out a saucer of milk outside the backyard door.

"What are you doing?"

"Appeasing the faerie spirits."

"What?"

"In Irish mythology faeries and household spirits prefer you put out a saucer of milk for them."

Tamaki just looked at him. He was too tired to deal with this and Kyoya didn't seem to be hurting anyone, but it was possible this milk was to trap some poor helplessly animal like Ms. Takahashi's poodle.

"You're not Irish."

"Well I'm not Algoquin either and yet according to you I'm a wendigo."

Tamaki narrowed his eyes. Shouldn't Kyoya have been putting out rice or something if he wanted to appease household spirits? Wasn't that what you were supposed to do? But he let it go. He should tell Kyoya about talking to the man on the phone, but Kyoya didn't need the pressure.

Besides, all Tamaki had to do was keep Kyoya from eating someone for a week, that wasn't so hard was it?

"Maybe you're not a wendigo. That would explain why everything is off and we're not in Algoquin territory. Maybe we just assumed you were the wrong thing."

"Yeah," Kyoya shrugged. "Maybe I'm some other flesh eating beast." Tamaki watched as Kyoya's eyes darted to his bare throat before Kyoya swallowed. Tamaki didn't want to be uneasy, but doubt was already creeping in.

But no. He was being ridiculous. Kyoya could have eaten him at any time. Kyoya even slept at the foot of his bed sometimes and it would have been easy to—Tamaki shook his head, but that night he locked his bedroom door.

 

Kyoya tried to turn the handle, but it wouldn't budge. The door was locked. Kyoya slunk back to his room. He wasn't going to cry himself to sleep. He wasn't _pathetic_.

The kitten was crying from outside again and Kyoya knew he should go to it. The kitten didn't understand. Kyoya peered out the window and watched its little body lap at the milk. It was too thin, probably too young to hunt. Kyoya had to find a mouse in the basement for it or it would die.

He shouldn't though, if he got too close who knew what he would do. But Kyoya rose anyway and headed outside.

 

Kyoya hid the mice or the other bits of meat underneath the saucer of milk so Tamaki wouldn’t see. The kitten should still be able to smell it though. Tamaki had been more distant lately, talking on the phone and registering for his classes. Kyoya grew hungrier, he'd always been hungry, because no matter what he ate it was always a poor substitute for human flesh. The cravings were worse now then when they'd started, but Kyoya didn't say anything.

Not to Tamaki.

He still remembered the look Tamaki had given him. Tamaki thinking he'd ate the kitten. Tamaki locking his door. Kyoya couldn’t tell him.

Haruhi had come over, but Kyoya didn't know what to say to her. Talking to her was weird now that he sometimes thought about eating her. He didn't want to kill her, but it was still hard to look her in the eye.

Kyoya knit more scarves and tried to knit a sweater but it wasn't really coming along. Everything was a mess. He was too distracted.

And then his sister showed up. Kyoya wished he'd knitted more so he could hide in a pile of ugly, failed knitwear, but there was no hiding from Fuyumi. Of course his sister loved the scarves.

"You have to make me one!" She clapped her hands and went on and on about her work in the hospital. Kyoya loved her. He loved his sister and he missed her, but she always had this habit of digging, of taking all the things that Kyoya had sorted away and hid, and she spread them out in the open, laid him bare and cut open like some surgery patient.

"Did you knit Tamaki anything?" she asked. Kyoya shrugged. "Maybe you should start with gloves, that would be easier to knit than sweaters and it'll be a big help in the winter. Even if you're here and not in Boston." Kyoya tensed, but Fuyumi barrelled on, seeming not to notice. But she noticed. Kyoya had been paying more attention to his sister over the years and they were more alike than he thought. She pretended she didn't know what she was doing, feigned the innocent like Kyoya did at school, but she was always thinking, always watching.

Kyoya couldn't deal with her right now. He didn't want to hurt her, didn't want to tell her to leave. But her presence set him on edge, reminded him of how many things were different. If he pretended this was fine, if he gave into the sense of false security his sister offered, then he'd fall apart. He'd forget himself, and she'd—who knew what would happen. Kyoya didn't want to think of it. Didn't want to think of her lying on the floor, half eaten.

"Maybe hats would be best!" she said one time, on her third visit. "Hats should be even easier than gloves, make me a hat." She winked. Kyoya tried not to cringe. When she was gone Tamaki was usually bustling about, arranging things, going down to his campus.

Kyoya tried to bake or cook or paint something, but nothing was good enough. The only thing he could muster were some abstract splashes of colour. He painted again and again and he knit hat after hat, and didn't think about being a wendigo. He just wanted to _forget._  

He should have been more prepared though.

Because he did let himself forget, for a moment. But it was one moment too long.

Ms. Takahashi had caught him as he was placing a saucer of milk outside. He had paint on his sweater, a sweater of his and not Tamaki's and maybe that was why he gave in to temptation when Ms. Takahashi asked if he could help her paint her ceiling. She was small woman, bent, and she'd never have been able to do it herself. The dog was staying with her sister because it couldn’t abide the paint fumes and Kyoya swallowed the lump in his throat and agreed.

The hunger was clawing at his stomach and it wasn't going to get better. He was already a monster and he hadn't consumed any flesh so maybe the myth was wrong? Maybe if he just gave in and finally ate, maybe then he'd feel full and he'd be better.

Maybe the only way to stop this pain was to give it something, to make someone else feel the pain he couldn't bare. Maybe eating her would accomplish nothing, but Kyoya couldn't take this any more. He couldn't take the hunger, couldn't take Tamaki's distance stares or Fuyumi's forced kindness which didn't used to be forced, but now it was corrupted, just like everything else Kyoya had touched. Kyoya just couldn't take it anymore.

Besides, what was the worse that could happen?

He was already a monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY! REMEMBER TO SAY WORDS AT ME! HERE or [HERE](http://www.stories-n-things.tumblr/ask) 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who's eating who?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted in Decemeber! As promised, a wild ride.

There were two exorcists. Javier and Belinda. Tamaki waited at the airport with a sign made up for them. The limo he'd borrowed was parked quite far away, but he didn't think they'd mind. Belinda was a tall woman, fat and beautiful with flowing, effervescent hair. Javier also looked a little like he'd stepped out of a hair commercial, though perhaps one targeted to harden 1920's American Film Noir enthusiasts.

"You're our driver?" Belinda asked in Japanese. Tamaki nodded enthusiastically. Belinda said something to Javier in Spanish, but it was close enough to French that Tamaki knew what it meant. _Rich people think they can cheat death itself._

Tamaki didn't say anything, but he led them to the limo as they chatted amongst themselves. Belinda didn't really seem to care whether they succeeded, but that didn't mean she was going to slack off. She kept badgering Javier about bringing all the equipment, about the theories of what was wrong with Kyoya, and what types of rituals they should try.

Javier seemed more hopeful, but also like he thought this was all going to end horribly.

But it wasn't. Javier would see. They would cure Kyoya. Kyoya would fine. Everything would be fine once they got home.

Except Kyoya wasn't home.

"Where is the guy I spoke to on the phone?" Javier asked. Tamaki was barely paying attention. Had someone gotten to Kyoya? Had he run away?

"KYOYA!" He shouted and waited for a response. Javier seemed to recognize Tamaki's voice as Tamaki bounded through the house, but there was no one there. The only sounds were air condition and a small scratching at the backdoor. Tamaki ran out the back and saw the kitten lapping from saucer, the metal plate scratching the back door as it moved with each lick.

Had Kyoya been trying to lure the kitten so he could eat—No. No this was too much. Tamaki collapsed to his knees.

"Where's the guy we need to exorcise?" Belinda asked gently. Tamaki only shook his head and tried not to scream.

 

Kyoya's hands were red, slick with blood, _warm_ with blood. He could see it, him standing over her corpse, digging in, eating.

Kyoya shook himself from daydreaming, fangs sinking into his lips.

"Yes, paint it just like that," Ms. Takahashi said. Kyoya was on the ladder, gripping the paint roller too tightly, his hands moving back and forth almost unconsciously. What was he doing? Shouldn't he just jump her? Eat her? But here he was painting her ceiling.

It was surreal, acting like a commoner. Almost more surreal than being a beast.

But Kyoya knew why he was doing this. Even if he wasn't completely himself, he was enough of himself. The only thing worse than trying to kill her, would be _failing_ to kill her. Kyoya hated failure. Kyoya's heart beat in his chest and he chewed his lip, trying to concentrate. The paint fumes were making him light headed or maybe it was the knowledge that he was finally, _finally_ going to be full that was dizzying.

"Oh my, you're bleeding!" Ms. Takahashi said. She was holding the ladder, but she took a hand off, trying to scurry off to get something. This was his chance, she couldn't _leave_. Kyoya's hand snapped out to grab her wrist, but the momentum threw him off. He lurched off the ladder, dangling in the air for a spilt second before crashing.

The paint roll fell after him, hitting him in the face, the paint dripping into his eye. The metal ladder fell on top of him a second later. Suddenly, he was too tired to move. He was too tired to even push the ladder or the roller away, too tired to sit up, or do anything. 

Ms. Takahashi was fussing about. Muttering and saying “Oh my” and Kyoya was just so sick of it. So sick of being in hungry of being in pain of failing. Ms. Takahashi kept asking if he was okay, but all Kyoya could do was groan.

"Let's get this off you. The paint fumes must really be getting to you," Ms. Takahashi removed Kyoya's mask and stared at his teeth, at his bloody, vicious mouth. She started prodding at his lips and Kyoya didn't know what to do. "Open up, did you bite your tongue?" She prodded at his tongue and Kyoya wondered if she'd ever been a dentist or a vet. Surely the sight of him should send her running away.

Her hands were in his mouth, pushing and testing and it would be easy to chomp down. Slowly he closed his mouth, applying the barest of pressure of Ms. Takahashi's fingers.

"Keep your mouth open," she clucked her tongue at him and opened his mouth with her other hand. It was easy to let her, easy to do nothing. There was something in him, something urging him into action, into fighting, it was the same thing that had told him he was okay, that he didn't need Tamaki. It was the same thing that made him forget the consequences of his actions. He couldn't even remember why he _wouldn't_ want to eat Mrs. Takahashi, but the feeling of dread didn't go away. The feeling that this was all hopeless was still there, and it was so unmistakably Kyoya and not something different. Somehow he knew, that eating Ms. Takahashi would make him a failure, even if he couldn't remember how.

It had something to do with Tamaki, probably. Kyoya tried to remember it, but he couldn't really. He couldn't remember any of it, but he knew how he felt. He didn't want this.

Kyoya only lay on the ground, staring up at the half painted ceiling.

"Oh! Suoh!" Ms. Takahashi called, hustling out the back door. Kyoya couldn't even bring himself to perk up. Instead he reached for the box cutter laying beside him and slide the blade up and down. "Suoh, what are you moping about for?" Kyoya could hear Ms. Takahashi form outside. "I think you should call an ambulance, you're...uh... _roommate_ has taken quite a fall."

"Kyoya's with you?" It was definitely Tamaki's voice. Kyoya struggled up onto his elbows and looked at the box cutter. It would take too long to disembowel himself, and that was chancy anyway. If he was serious about this, the best think to do would be cut his throat.

But _was_ he serious?

"Yes well, he seems so sad, so lonely, I thought I might try to get him out of the house—"

"Is he okay?"

"You can—"

Kyoya pressed the box cutter into his skin experimentally, but his grip was too weak. Blood trailed down his neck but Kyoya just sighed. He looked up as Tamaki bounded into the room, rushing to his side. Two other people walked in after him, but Kyoya couldn’t bring himself to care.

"Kyoya, oh my god are you..." Tamaki's hands were reaching for his throat and Kyoya couldn't even swat them away. Instead, he buried his face in Tamaki's neck, his blood ruining Tamaki's clothes. "Oh my god, I thought you'd left, I thought I'd lost you." Tamaki was crying, hot tears spilling onto Kyoya's shoulder. Kyoya only swallowed, breathing him in. Tamaki had been chewing mint gum and must have spilt some egg on his shirt collar because he reeked of it.

Kyoya could smell Tamaki's blood too, could hear it run though Tamaki’s veins. Kyoya could practically taste the blood now and it would be so easy to bite Tamaki, but so impossible, so wrong.

"Yes, well, I'll call the ambulance myself then." Ms. Takahashi huffed, but hurried off into the kitchen.

"You came over here to help her paint the house? I could have—I could have done something with you, if you were bored, if you called." Tamaki pulled away.

"I was going to eat her," Kyoya whispered and Tamaki's face dropped. Tamaki was so surprised, like it hadn't even occurred to him, like Tamaki, just like the kitten, had refused to believe that Kyoya was capable of such a thing even though something like this had happened before.

"You wanted to eat her?"

"No. I just—I just came here to—I'm so hungry..." Kyoya didn't know what to say. He could see the two strangers watching, judging him and Kyoya bared his teeth behind Tamaki's back.  _Fuck off._

"We should get this over with," one of the strangers, the girl, said. Kyoya hated her instantly. Hated her for seeing him like this. For seeing him weak and cut open.

"What stopped you?" Tamaki asked. He rubbed Kyoya's arms and wiped the blood from Kyoya's face with his own sweater.

"I told you I didn't want to." Kyoya sighed. "I just want to go home. I want it to stop." Kyoya shrugged and struggled to his feet. Ms. Takahashi came back into the living room and gasped at Kyoya's neck.

"Dear are you sure you'll be all right? That looks—well if I had known you were going to take a fall—but you reached out so suddenly—" she kept muttering, mostly to herself and Tamaki helped Kyoya stand back up. They limped back to Tamaki's house were Tamaki cancelled the ambulance, promising they'd drive Kyoya to one of his father's hospitals.

The strangers were preparing something in the basement, something they refused to talk about with Kyoya. Kyoya for his part just flopped down on the couch, not caring about the blood. He pulled Tamaki down beside him, passed the point of pride. Kyoya looked at the sweat pooling in the hollow of Tamaki’s throat and licked his lips.

"Did you ever want to eat me, even a little?" Tamaki asked.

 _No_  Kyoya wanted to say. _Not even for a second._

"Not really," he said instead. "Sometimes, when someone's close to you, you get the urge to kiss them, but you don't really want to. It's an intrusive thought." Tamaki sat on Kyoya's legs and patted his thighs. Kyoya was still hungry. If he wasn’t so wrecked, perhaps he’d be angry, or maniac, perhaps he’d be able to hunt down prey in the woods then.

"I found some exorcists." Tamaki explained his plan and Kyoya listened, unsure of what was going to happen. There was a chance it wouldn’t work. That even trying would destroy Tamaki’s hope.

Did Kyoya even want to be cured? He supposed he must have. He almost couldn’t remember but if he was normal, it had to be better than this hunger.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Kyoya asked. Tamaki didn't say anything, didn't even look him in the eye. "Were you ever planning on killing me, just in case?"

 _No. Not even for a second_ Kyoya wanted him to say it. Tamaki said nothing. Kyoya wanted to shout, to demand that Tamaki say it. Instead Kyoya repeated his question and watched Tamaki look away.

"Not really," Tamaki said instead.

Kyoya would take it. "You should have told me."

"I should have." Tamaki patted Kyoya's leg again. "But it’s a lot to handle and I didn’t want to…to give you false hope or worry you. And I wanted to think you wouldn't eat people, even if I didn't tell you not to. And I didn't—you weren't doing well and I didn't want to promise you'd get better and then fail."

"You locked your door," Kyoya said. Tamaki didn't respond. Kyoya struggled to sit up, dislodging Tamaki and then sitting closer to him. "They're not going to kill me, right? This isn’t…I’m not going to die?" Kyoya sounded like a child.

"Did you lock your door?” Tamaki asked. “After I did? Did you think I was planning to kill—"

"No," Kyoya said honestly. "Not even for a second."

 

The exorcists made him stand in a circle. They chanted and splashed him with things and eventually Kyoya got tired and lay down, even though they told him not to. He didn’t care. He didn’t care about them.

Who were they anyway?

It hurt. The exorcism, the chanting. They burned incense that singed Kyoya’s nose hairs, that made him dizzy and angry. He could have pounded the basement floor, broke it open until he reached earth. The pain might have soothed him, if the destruction didn’t.

But Kyoya used his last bit of self-control to do nothing. He didn’t have enough to pull himself back, to remember why eating people was wrong, to remember who he was.

When the exorcists took their first break Tamaki came up to him. He didn’t break the circle, but he hovered around it as if he wanted to.

“Does it hurt?”

Kyoya stared up at the ceiling, not responding. He had been paying attention earlier. There were hours left of this. Hours left of this pain and he didn’t even know if he’d make it until the end.

These could be his last words. What did he want them to be? A dying declaration of love? Telling Tamaki not to worry? Something about his family, about Fuyumi who was always so worried about him.

“I don’t want to die,” Kyoya whispered. He could feel his eyes watering, but he wasn’t crying, not yet. He didn’t look at Tamaki, didn’t listen. He repeated his last words to himself over and over again, even when the others came back.

They started chanting again and the pain was worse, unbearable. Kyoya screamed, not because he wanted to, but because he didn’t have it in him to stop.

 

Tamaki looked down at his bowl of cereal. It had been days since the exorcism and this was the first day that Kyoya had woken up and made it downstairs for breakfast.

Kyoya could see Tamaki’s nails, bitten to the quick, he could see the bags under Tamaki’s eyes and the blisters on Tamaki’s fingers from having played the piano almost nonstop for days. Tamaki’s leg was bouncing under the table, up and down. Kyoya didn’t want to see him like this. He placed his palm firmly on Tamaki’s knee to stop him.

"Do you feel better?" Tamaki asked over the bowl of cereal.

“I feel more in control,” Kyoya said. He remembered himself now. If the little voice that told him to eat someone was still there, it had no authority any more. The teeth and the claws were still there too, but they hadn’t gotten worse and Kyoya had managed to file them into something almost reasonable looking.

“We should forget what we said to each other,” Kyoya said.

“We can’t forget it.”

“Well then we should move passed it. There was no right answer here and—” Tamaki leapt out of his seat to throw his arms around Kyoya.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry—”

“You don’t need to say that—”

“For everything, for the camping for—”

“Tamaki stop.”

Tamaki was shaking. “I just wanted so badly for you to be okay, I didn’t—I didn’t know what I’d do if you weren’t.” Tamaki sniffled and burst into tears again. Shaking harder now. Kyoya brought his arms up to hold him. He didn't know what else to do.

They stayed like that for a while, Kyoya the rock and Tamaki weeping. Until Kyoya couldn't it take any more. Until Kyoya let one tear escape and then another until they were both crying, clinging to each other and trying not to fall apart. When Tamaki pulled back his face was dripping with snot and tears and his eyes were red and puffy. Tamaki had always been an ugly crier.

“I think we’ve talked about this enough for now. We both need to move on,” Kyoya said, his voice hoarse, but surprisingly steady. Tamaki only nodded. Kyoya brushed Tamaki’s hair back into place and kissed his forehead without explaining himself.

"So,” Tamaki sniffled, then snorted back mucus loudly. “How's the knitting coming along?"

Kyoya rolled his eyes and got up from the table to put some water and food out for the kitten, Espoir. Their outdoor cat. When he came back Tamaki was staring at his phone, smiling.

"What? Haruhi texted?"

"Huh? No. I got approved." Tamaki grinned even more, almost dazzlingly despite the tears. He snorted back more mucus and the effect was utterly shattered.

"Approved for what?"

"I applied to take some of my courses abroad, at Boston University."

Kyoya only blinked and sat down at the kitchen table across form Tamaki, but Tamaki got back up so they were sitting side by side.

"I didn't want to tell you in case I jinxed it, but I applied to do some time in Boston so you could go back to Harvard and graduate and you wouldn't have to do it alone because of...you know."

Kyoya opened his mouth but words didn't come out. He’d given up on Harvard but now, the feelings came flooding back. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t think.

"I thought it'd be a nice surprise."

"What if I eat someone?"

"Well you haven't eaten anyone yet," Tamaki was smiling, joking, but there was an undercurrent of seriousness, of trust. "I believe in you."

Kyoya grinned. Now wasn't the best time to confess his undying love, even if he thought Tamaki might have had some inkling for it already, but it was one of those moments that made Kyoya want to.

"This is incredibly messed up. Not to mention dangerous." Kyoya ran a hand through his hair. Just a moment ago they were in tears and now they were smiling at each other. This entire thing was exhausting.

"We managed to get this far, I think it’s reasonable we can manage a little more.”

Tamaki took Kyoya’s hand and pressed an open mouthed kiss to his palm. Kyoya just stared, unable to grasp the situation. Tamaki was still holding his hand, Kyoya’s cold clammy fingers between Tamaki’s smooth warm ones.

Tamaki rolled Kyoya’s fingers between his palms, warming them up. “You should wear gloves.” Then Tamaki paused, face suddenly lighting up. “You should _knit your own gloves! Mittens!_ ” Tamaki was practically bouncing with his new idea. “What do you say Kyoya? Hmm? Do you want to try mittens? I know you’ve only done scarves before, maybe we could work our way up to it together.”

Kyoya closed his eyes. It had taken a while for it to hit him, but he was okay. He was going to be okay.

"C'mon Kyoya? Knitting? Mittens? Hmmm?"

“It’s a plan.” And this plan, unlike the other, probably _was_ fool proof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks a lot to the twelve people who really like this fic! I appreciate you.
> 
> Well! 
> 
> It's over, though I guess it hasn't been that long writing this has been fun and helped me a lot. I think trying to fill that prompt and being really unable to brought me much closer to the kind of stuff I do in original fiction rather than in fanfiction. I mean this is much different than my other fics both in genre and tone. But I like it and hopefully other people will like it to. I know that when the story and tone is so far removed from the canon things like what's in character and how realistic something is can really be up in the air since a lot is open to interpretation, but I still think I managed all right, if not perfect.
> 
> Additionally I wanted to explain, for reasons I won't get into too much, that Kyoya's not actually a wendigo. When Tamaki was doing research it seemed to be the thing that fit the most but wasn't what ended up being the case. I did a lot of thinking about this and I realized that removing a Native myth from it's original context so completely was not a thing I really wanted to do, so I wanted to clear up any confusion about it now.
> 
> I know I say this in every fic and in every chapter but I just really like talking to people. You can talk to me here if you prefer but you can also leave a message on my [ tumblr](http://www.stories-n-things.tumblr.com) even if the fic is finished and it's been thirty years.


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